The Arcane Amour
by luckyluckylucky
Summary: The Untold story of what happens in Ginny's 6th year at Hogwarts! The Golden Trio have left, and the entire school is under the Ministry's huge thumb, crushed by the hand of Voldemort. How can Ginny bear to stand by, silent? GWxDM
1. Prologue: Just a Dream

The Arcane Amour

By Luckyluckylucky

Disclaimer: All characters, situations, and settings are the property of J.K. Rowling and no other... especially not mine.

Summary: This story follows Ginny Weasley's sixth year at Hogwarts, the untold story of what happens at Hogwarts under Voldemort's control. I try to keep things as accurate as possible, so if I get anything technically wrong, I would love for you to PM me!

Prologue: Just a Dream

The hulking Manor stood silent and foreboding, its shape towering over the Earth and blacking out almost half of the night sky. None of the classic, arched windows bore any sign of life or candlelight, and the only visible glow to be seen was a sliver of golden crescent moon, hung low and horizontal against the sky.

She slipped off her shoes and laid them carefully on the icy marble floor and eased the door shut on the image of her naked husband, slumbering soundly.

Her bare feet struck the ground with a rhythmical beat as she fled through the impenetrable darkness. Fortunately, she knew her path like second nature, her long, pale blonde hair streaming out behind her, the only visible gleam in the endless corridors.

Her white hands traced along the walls, counting the ridges of doorways, and at the thirteenth door, she cast a wary eye into the shadows and slipped inside.

"Draco!" Her son laid diagonal across his luxurious bed, half-naked and in a dreamless sleep. Horrified, she could see the half-empty flask on his lamp stand, the glimmering purple potion swirling in an innocuous manner.

"Enervate!" His pale, almost lavender eyelids slid back, and Draco blinked, disoriented.

"Mother?" his voice rasped.

"Yes, love, wake up. We are leaving tonight, earlier than planned, I'm afraid."

His grey eyes, darkened with sleep, registered awareness. "But what about the—"he began, but Narcissa cut him across sharply.

"Not now!" she hissed. "Don't ask anymore questions, just do as I say! Get dressed and be silent, and maybe we shall—"

"Escape?" a silky voice hissed from behind her. Wandlight flashed, blinding Draco, and he heard his mother fall to the floor with a thud. Draco's fingers leapt to the spot where he placed his wand earlier, but somehow it was already between his father's pale fingers.

"Just a dream, son," Lucius sneered, before slashing the blackthorn wand inches from his son's shocked face, erasing the memory of his mother's panicked, bloodless face with an icy, cobalt glow.

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	2. Chapter 1: Things Have Changed

Chapter 1: Things Have Changed

The morning of September first was so grey and wet that it was as if the sun hadn't risen at all. Ginny stared listlessly out of her foggy window of the Scarlett Express, absorbed in her doomsday predictions. Her assigned compartment, one of the many changes this year, was almost completely silent, the only sound emitting from the wheels racing beneath them.

The station was flooded by violet-clad ministry workers, the golden emblem of M.O.M. across their breasts. Upon catching sight of them, Ginny seethed, her fists clenched within the pockets of her jeans. _Imagine, wasting all this time looking for muggle-borns when they could be hunting down Death Eaters!_ But no, now they were searching for Harry…

As Molly Weasley hugged her daughter tightly, Ginny whimpered, "Don't make me go, mum."

Molly's brown eyes were wide and her brows wrought with worry, and she flashed an angry glance at her husband, as if it were his entire fault.

"Ginny, dear… You don't have a choice in this."

"I don't, but you do!" Ginny shot back, her eyes beginning to tear up. This wasn't a new argument, and Ginny knew how it would end. Ginny turned her pleading eyes upon her father, who was casting anxious glances at a nearby auror, who was watching them suspiciously.

"Dad," Ginny begged. "Don't make me do this, please!"

Her father's eyes were anxious and distant, and he bent forward and kissed Ginny's crumpled brow. "Be strong, Gin-bug. Do it for the Order," he hesitated, "Do it for Harry."

Ginny stifled a sob and turned her cheek. Arthur patted her shoulder and turned to lift her trunk up the stairs and onto the train.

A hook-nosed ministry worker accosted her at the entrance, demanding to see her wand. Ginny huffed, reaching into her sleeve and slapping her wand into his reaching hands. The man dropped it onto what looked like a complex scale, and it issued a series of clicking and whirring noises, spitting out a slip of paper with all her wand's data on it. He read it aloud to her, and she replied irritably, "Yes, that's all correct."

"Blood status?" he demanded, glaring at Ginny.

"Pure-blood," she snapped, seizing her wand and turning away. The man's grimy fingers caught her shoulder, and yanked her back.

"What do you think you're--?!"

"Weasley, right?" the man wheezed nastily. "Last compartment on the left. With the other blood-traitors."

Ginny was aghast. "You mean, we don't get to pick our own compartments?"

The man smirked and chuckled under his breath. "Not anymore, miss."

Ginny violently threw his hand off her shoulder and stomped onto the train. The simmering anger bubbled up into her chest. _Dumbledore would have never allowed this... this atrocity!_ She thought to herself. _The muggle-borns, rounded up like animals, cooped up into bleak cells in Azkaban…_ She'd never been more ashamed to be a pure-blood witch than she felt right now.

Inside, the food cart was blocking the narrow corridor.

"Four chocolate frogs, a pumpkin pastry, and a cherry tart. That is all," an imperious female voice issued from one of the front compartments, and in a moment, Ginny saw Pansy Parkinson, a seventh-year Slytherin, and simpering slut of Draco Malfoy, poke her head out into the corridor.

She gathered up all the sweets into her grasp, and then, as if her upturned nose could smell the very scent of poverty, Parkinson turned, saw Ginny, and sneered, "Wealsey. You'll find that things have changed, I'm afraid." She smirked, looking Ginny up and down. "Even if your second-hand clothes haven't," she added smugly.

Ginny scoffed, used to Parkinson's cheap stings, and glared scornfully. "I can see that you haven't changed a bit either, Parkinson," she snapped. "You're still the same pathetic slut you've always—"

Ginny trailed off, her mouth falling into a perfect pink "O".

Draco Malfoy stood towering in the compartment doorway, his pale, pointed face drawn, and his brow lined with a distant worry. His shoulders had broadened, but his frame was as tall and thin as a rail, and he had the grace and morbid elegance of a walking skeleton. His full lips were turned down at the ends, and his dark grey eyes were downcast, staring blankly at his pale, spindly fingers which were twirling a blackthorn wand absentmindedly.

Without another thought, her anger, once simmering quietly in the pit of her stomach, exploded with the force of a blasting spell. Ginny shrieked, "YOU!" her right hand plunging into her pocket for her wand.

Malfoy started, and his fingers were suddenly clumsy with his wand, for Ginny's wand was already leveled between his eyes in less than a second.

She hissed between clenched teeth, "You dare come back, her scum, you bastard! After letting Death Eaters, and _Fenir Greyback_ into Hogwarts, you DARE--?! It's you're fault he died, you son of a—!"

A stunning blow slammed into her from behind, and Ginny nearly pitched face-first to the ground, but caught herself on the food-cart, knocking aside a stack of chocolate frogs.

"A Weasley?" a shrill, nasal voice cackled, delighted. "Oh, what fun!"

Ginny spun, protectively pressing her back into a wall, and froze.

Alecto Carrow, her pig-like face scrunched with a sick fury, had her short, stiff wand pressed into Ginny's throat.

"Blood-traitors are about to find out that things have changed around here," Amycus crooned, digging her wand deeper into Ginny's pale flesh.

Ginny glowered silently, her breath ragged, for ten full seconds. Carrow glared at her, her breath fetid in Ginny's face, challenging Ginny to do something, to protest, to move.

Carrow released her, taking a step back. "Get back to your compartment, Weasley. I expect to see you soon," she called tauntingly.

Dark, brooding eyes followed Ginny as she stalked away.

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Well, I hope you all liked chapter one! But I'll never know what you think if you don't leave a **review**, so please, it only takes a second.

~luckyluckylucky


	3. Chapter 2: Danger Where You Step

After not much ado, here is Chapter Two!

Much, _much_ thanks to all my lovely reviewers, especially: PyroSymptomsUnleashed (_For Merlin's sake, honestly! You__ must__ read Deathly Hallows, it's fantastic_!!!), Catnipob, Snowfire81, and Springawakening1894! To everybody else: Unless you've written a story, you can't imagine how amazing it is to receive support through reviews. We actually do know if you stopped by and didn't review, you know.. Out of 126 readers, 4 decided to leave a review, for this story. Even if you don't love the story, pretty please, attempt to leave even the shortest review, positive or no. As long as it's not a flame, authors really appreciate absolutely anything you have to say.

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Chapter Two: Danger Where You Step

_Dark, brooding eyes followed her as she walked away…_

"Ginny!" a kind voice rang out, snapping her out of her internal seething about being manhandled by her new "professor". She turned, realizing that she had stormed past Neville, not even noticing his attempt to catch her attention. His round, benign face peered out of one of the pureblood's compartments, and he waved wildly, his expression breaking into a hesitant smile.

"Neville, Hi," Ginny said as she backtracked, giving him a brief hug. She noticed that he was stuck in a compartment with a bunch of haughty-looking Ravenclaws, all of them girls. They were whispering to each other, shooting her glances. Ginny rolled her eyes at them behind Neville's back, and their faces instantly hardened, and they began discussing, what she assumed was herself or Neville, with renewed fervor.

"So, how was your summer?" Ginny asked, and instantly hoped that he would not ask her about hers.

"Oh, not bad…" Neville seemed reluctant to talk about himself and changed the subject. "Are you okay? I saw you walking by, and you looked about ready to hex somebody…"

Ginny grimaced, twisting her fingers. "It was that awful cow, Carrow! She _hit _me!" she stressed indignantly, absentmindedly rubbing her arm, where a small, faint purpling bruise was beginning to show.

"What! Are you kidding?" he blurted out loudly, causing some rather small Hufflepuffs to stare curiously at them.

"And that's not even the worst bit." Ginny looked mutinous. "Malfoy's here."

Neville just shook his head. "Yeah, I saw the git earlier… Just be careful, Ginny," he warned. "Things have changed 'round here. After all, Snape _is_ headmaster." He seemed to have some difficulty swallowing the last sentence.

Ginny sighed heavily, closing her eyes and mentally exhaling all of her simmering, toxic thoughts. No, she couldn't think about this for a moment longer. She couldn't think about Harry, and what impossible, deadly tasks he was performing for Dumbledore, who had left them all struggling in a world that was being ensnared in Riddle's inescapable grasp. She fought the resentment for them both, repeating her mantra. _Stay in the moment, stay in the moment…It'll all be alright if you stay in the moment…_

Then Neville's hand settled on her shoulder, and she noticed it was emaciating warmth through her jumper.

"It'll be hard, I know… That he's gone, I mean. But it'll be alright."

Ginny took in a ragged breath, her emotions getting the upper hand for a split-second, set off by the human contact and hopeful words.

"Thanks Neville," she muttered, trying to get a grip. She stepped back, and his hand fell awkwardly. "I'll see you at the feast," she called over her shoulder, dragging her heavy trunk down the endless corridor, to the very rear of the train.

Things certainly have changed.

* * *

The feast was gloomy and subdued this year, the tables suddenly quite emptier from the year before. A lot of students had been either muggle-born, and in that case, had fled the country with parents that were woefully unaware of much going on in the wizarding world and rather unprepared or able to evade wizarding capture.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, obviously outnumbered the rest of the houses, their table full as ever. They were all rather smug-looking, the new regime obviously suiting them just fine.

Ginny's eyes were drawn to Malfoy, who was sitting next to Blaise Zabini, whose razor-sharp cheekbones and obsidian eyes gave off a blue glow in comparison to his light brown skin. She couldn't deny that he was strikingly handsome, but his icy and condescending demeanor meant that all of the students gave him a very wide berth, even the Slytherins. It was probably why Malfoy chose to befriend the strange Zabini in the first place, Ginny mused.

Suddenly, Malfoy's icy eyes found hers, and she tore her eyes from him, furiously reprimanding herself. Not wasting anymore of her precious time staring at the ferreting traitor, Ginny cast her eyes up and down the Gryffindor table, looking for friends to sit by.

Although they were almost invisible, they were so short, Ginny spotted the Creevey brothers and made a bee-line for them. They were talking with Neville in low tones, and Ginny threw herself down in the empty chair across from them.

"Collin, Dennis!" she exclaimed, incredulous. "You're here! I thought you'd have left by now…"

Because it was commonly-known that the brothers were muggle-born, Ginny was astounded they hadn't been interrogated and carted off to Azkaban.

Collin cast a wary glance around and said softly, "I was just telling Neville. My parents faked our family tree, somehow tying us to some healer ages ago. It's a wonder we haven't been caught, really…"

"Well, I am _so glad_ you both are here…" Ginny murmured earnestly, falling silent as Snape stood to give the traditional headmaster's speech. The Great Hall fell into a tense silence, and the resentment was almost tangible from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, whereas Slytherin was just gleeful.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts for another year," the new headmaster said silkily, smirking towards the Gryffindor table. "As you can see, I have become your new headmaster, so I will now inform you of the changes taking place at Hogwarts this year.

"Charity Burbage has... retired," he said stiffly, "and Professor Alecto Carrow will be replacing her post as Muggle Studies professor." Carrow stood briefly, leering around the Great Hall at all the sullen students. "And beginning this year, Muggle Studies will now be mandatory."

Groans met this announcement, and Snape glowered furiously until the mutinous muttering subsided.

"Her brother, Professor Amycus Carrow, will be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…"

"At least he'll be gone in one year," Neville muttered, and everybody around them broke into identical smirks.

"… Which will now just be the 'Dark Arts'."

"What!" Ginny hissed in outrage, and her cry was echoed throughout the hall. Professor McGonagall, who looked severely aged in the rather short period of time since Dumbledore's death, had pressed her lips into a thin line, and her hands were visibly shaking with rage.

"Silence!" Snape snapped, glaring venomously around at the students, and cast a warning glance at the teachers as well, for some of them looked just as outraged as the students.

"As always, there will be no magic in the corridors between classes, and the forest is expressly forbidden to all students. Classes begin tomorrow at nine in the morning, and curfew is at nine in the evening…" Snape launched into a much rehearsed recitation of the basic components of Dumbledore's previous welcoming speeches. Many of the students sunk into a glum stupor.

Ginny sat with her fists curled tightly around the edge bench she was sitting on. She glared daggers at both Carrows unrelentingly, thinking about the hell she would wreck upon these filthy, intruding death eaters… The male Carrow looked up, as if he had felt her gaze burning a hole in his forehead. He recognized her, shooting a lop-sided leer in her direction, before turning promptly away and gazing adoringly towards Snape.

_You just wait,_ Ginny seethed silently.

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Alright! I hope you ALL enjoyed chapter two, so as I mentioned at the top, please **REVIEW!!**

Up next: All hell breaks loose in Hogwarts as the Death Eater regime begins, and Ginny strives to stir up as much trouble as she can, until she finds out the hard way what kind of punishments the Carrows serve… and where does all this put Draco Malfoy?

Much love,

~luckyluckylucky


	4. Chapter 3: Burning Hope

This chapter is brought to you by: Procrastination!! Yes, the author IS in fact avoiding studying for this week's worth of mid-term exams, because really—what's more important than Harry Potter fanfiction?

Chapter Three: Burning Hope

With her mouth downturned and her shoulders hunched over due to the crushing weight of her book bag, Ginny rushed off to her first Dark Arts class, her heart pounding furiously in her throat. How could she possibly know what to expect from Amycus Carrow? As far as she could tell, the man was a brutish moron, delighted by the immense sway he held over Hogwarts and all her inhabitants. You-Know-Who had pretty much given him and his pig of a sister the power to do whatever they wished, and the mere thought frightened Ginny.

She slipped past a group of huddled Ravenclaws into the classroom, which was frigid and dank. Ginny fought the shuddering sensation, trying not to flee. She was overcome with the feeling that she was stepping into a torture chamber, unwittingly sealing her fate. Shaking it off, she swept the room with her eyes, seeking a spot that was as far away from Amycus Carrow as she could get and next to somebody who didn't think that Severus Snape was the best thing that had ever happened to Hogwarts.

Luckily, there was a spot in the very back of the room, next to a girl with waist-length, pale blonde hair, who Ginny immediately recognized as Luna Lovegood. She made a bee-line for the chair, even though nobody was jumping to sit next to the oddity, who was quietly scribbling in a notebook.

"Hello Luna," Ginny said pleasantly, pleased to have at least one old DA member in the class. "Thank Merlin you're here." She threw herself down in the chair, relieved.

Luna looked up, her wide eyes giving off the impression that Ginny woke her out of a dreamy trance. "Oh─ hello Ginny," she smiled faintly, but then bit down on her lower lip, looking worried. "I didn't see Harry, Ron, or Hermione," she leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Are they in hiding? Do you know if they are alright?"

Ginny's stomach dropped a little. "I don't know much," she said softly, her face anguished. "But they've all left. A lot of people are gone," she said flatly, twisting her fingers in her lap.

Luna was observing her carefully, and the moment Ginny realized this, she dropped her hands. "Ginny—" Luna started, hesitant, but at that moment, the door slammed closed, making Ginny flinch violently.

Amycus Carrow strutted into the room, his sloped shoulders giving him the appearance and posture of a gorilla.

"Shuddup, will you? Bunch of twits…" he growled, and flung the book he was holding down on his desk. The class watched him silently, waiting…

"They got me this idiot book, but I don't think we'd get tha' much use outta it, honestly." He smirked around at the class. "Nobody ever got much use outta books like it, I reckon. _Defense Against the Dark Arts_… Ugh," he scoffed. The class watched him warily.

Abruptly, he stood. "Y'know, you lot haven't learned much at all, I reckon. Counter curses, them magical critters…Merlin knows—nothing at all! The only real useful thing you lot have learned at all was the Unforgivables! Not so unforgivable in the Dark Lord's book, though!" He giggled. "We should go over those again," he decided, his stubby fingers snatching his wand up from his desk. Immediately, the class nervously cowered, but he gave no notice.

"Somebody tell me what they are," he demanded, pointing his wand around at the class. Nobody spoke; everybody was terrified and nervously eyeing his wand.

After a few moments, when Carrow realized that nobody was going to say anything, he slammed his fist down on his desk. "You lot better say something, or I'll have to _show_ you what the Unforgivables are!" he threatened, his pig-like face becoming pinched

"A—Avada Kedavra, Crucio, and the Imperious Curse," a tall Ravenclaw boy called, his voice nervous.

Carrow grinned malevolently. "Veerry good…Tha' wasn't so _damn_ hard, was it!" He shouted at the rest of the class, who stared anxiously at him. His insane mood-swings left everybody on edge, and for the next twenty minutes, Carrow spat questions about various dark spells and curses, fondly recalling stories about the most gruesome incidents he could remember. Ginny sat in the back, furiously plotting ways to disrupt and overthrow the tyrannical death eaters that were terrorizing the student population. Fred and George, they would help. Maybe if she owled them, they could help her distribute Skiving Snackboxes, and they could pull off 'Carrow-itis' as well as they had 'Umbridge-itis". She listened to him ranting about how Barty Crouch was the best teacher he thought they had ever had, and felt nauseated. Who needed Snackboxes when just listening to this madman made you sick?

"—tha' idiot Dumbly-dore, he was a fool. You little brats just wait, the Dark Lord will teach you all a lesson, even if you'll not listen to me—And you!" He screeched, pointing his wand dead-center at Ginny, who jumped, hardly believing that he was addressing her at all.

"Yes…?" she said icily, drawing her spine up rigidly. The simmering fury was bubbling in her stomach, threatening to rise and overwhelm her.

"Don't take that tone with me, missy! Yer just a nasty ole' blood traitor! Why'd ya even bother coming back here, you're no much better than bloody Dumbly-dore!"

Something snapped. She couldn't take this, this miserable, blithering fool and his maniacal reign over her and the few friends she had left. "And you—" she hissed, slamming down her books on the desk, "You should go back to Azkaban where you belong!"

The entire classroom fell into a frozen hush. Beside her, Ginny saw Luna's jaw drop in amazement.

Amycus Carrow just stared, surveying her calmly. With every passing moment, Ginny's anger rose, and she grappled with it, trying to control the flow. Her heart pounded in her temples, drowning all rational thought. When it suddenly seemed too much, like she would burst from indignation, he dropped his eyes, picking up the discarded Defense Against the Dark Arts book from a haphazard stack of papers.

"Before the end of the year…" he turned the book carefully between his stubby fingers, eyes averted. "…You, _Weasley_, will definitely find out what happens to those who can't _shut their traps_!"

With his last three words, Carrow hurled the book at her. Ginny's lightening-fast chaser reflexes forced her to duck, the book barely missing the top of her head. It hit the wall behind her, sending a framed picture of a dementor crashing to the floor. The glass within the frame shattered, shards clattering across the stone floor.

Just as the glass had shattered, the violence broke the mounting tension within the room. Carrow shrugged, and dropped into his chair, as if he were tired from such a daunting task as to teach such belligerent students.

"You just wait 'till Alecto's class, Weasley. She'll take care of you. The rest of you, dismissed."

The sixth-years practically sprinted for the exit.

* * *

"—Can't believe he'd actually do that! What a git. We'll sort him out, Gin…" Neville was babbling next to her, trying to complete an astronomy chart as he finished his lunch. Luckily, he wasn't so much as talking to Ginny as he was talking _at_ her. Which left her to muse angrily about what she could possibly do to make up for being _physically attacked _in the middle of her very first Dark Arts class. Carrow was a brute—he wouldn't be hard to wreck her furious revenge on. He was just a fool, a pawn of Snape and You-Know-Who, whose only purpose in life was to be a mindless slave to the dark side…

"It's a good idea, no?" Neville chirped beside her, suddenly cheerful.

"Um… yes." Ginny blurted, not knowing what in Merlin's name he was talking about. "What were the details of this—er, plan?" She tried to cover, backtracking wildly.

Across the Great Hall, Ginny spotted a platinum blonde twit get up hurriedly from the Slytherin table. "Malfoy," she hissed under her breath. Blaise Zabini got up as well, calling, "Hold up—wait! Draco!" but Malfoy brushed him off, nearly running out of the hall.

"What was that, Gin?" Neville asked, curious, looking around to see what she was glaring at. Ginny jerked her eyes away, and grabbed her bag hastily.

"Yeah, you'll have to tell me later, okay? I've got to go—erm… study…"

Her curiousity piqued, she strode out of the Great Hall, looking around. He seemed to have vanished, and Ginny huffed in frustration. She didn't know why, but there was something in the back of her mind that wanted to follow him, find him… and somehow prevent him from ruining more lives, tormenting more first-years, or murdering the defenseless…

A gleam of blonde caught her eye, and Ginny gazed upwards into the network of ever-revolving staircases. Somehow, Malfoy had already ascended two flights of stairs, and Ginny dashed after him. Not wanting him to see her, Ginny slunk through the shadows, trying to stay close to the walls and out of sight. He turned suddenly into a passageway behind a tapestry, and Ginny crept behind him, silent as a cat. The hidden corridor was pitch-dark, but she could hear footsteps ahead, slowly getting fainter and farther away. In her haste, she didn't wait for her eyes to adjust, and felt along the walls, creeping slowly. What could Malfoy possibly be up to? The burning curiosity enflamed her, driving her on. Suddenly, she felt the corridor twist and incline, her legs beginning to ache. She could no longer hear his expensive shoes clicking ahead of her, and her hopes fell down into her stomach, swallowed by the simmering anger.

Her pace slowed, allowing Ginny the breath to sulk. And then, the gloomy stairwell was at an end, and through the darkness, Ginny could see a plain, oaken door. Her stomach fluttering, she grasped the heavy, brass doorknob, twisting it open and slowly edging the door ajar. She peered through the crack between the door and the doorframe, and her heart leaped. Malfoy was there, pacing back and forth in front of a familiar stretch of blank wall.

This was the 7th floor corridor, which Ginny immediately recognized from a year's worth of DA meetings. The Room of Requirement… What was he doing? _Returning to the scene to gloat of his triumph over the DA, likely_, Ginny thought acidly. Malfoy came to a jilted halt in front of the wall, and a glossy chestnut door blossomed and expanded to human proportions, gleaming where no door had been a moment ago. Malfoy cast a wary eye, and Ginny pulled back on the door, narrowing the sliver through which she watched him. He was completely oblivious to her piercing gaze, and slipped through the door, which vanished, shrinking back into the blank wall that it was before.

The opportunity presented itself like a shining beaker of Liquid Euphoria. This chance to spy upon her enemy, possibly catch him doing something illegal, overwhelmed Ginny's small frame. She propelled herself eagerly into the corridor, and began pacing rapidly near the wall. She screwed up her eyes in concentration, wishing feverously to get inside the Room…

_Let me inside… I need to see what Malfoy is doing in there… Let me in… Let me in… Please, let me in…_

On her third round, Ginny snapped her eyes open, expecting to see the same glossy chestnut door. But she was sorely disappointed, for the wall remained impassive, as if it was mocking her, pretending it had no idea what she wanted. In anger, she smacked the wall with her open palm, and said aloud, "Damnit! Didn't you hear, I want in!"

Her palm tingled, and the door remained hidden.

_So try again_, Ginny consoled herself. There must be some mythical combination of asking, begging, and pleading that the Room would acknowledge, letting her in so she could follow the uncontrollable curiosity she couldn't quell.

But a full half-hour later, Ginny still hadn't accessed the Room. It was more stubborn than she was! Uncertainty began to plague her. If she hadn't seen Malfoy enter through the door with her own eyes, she almost wouldn't believe there was a room there at all.

An excruciating headache was gripping her head, as if a giant was squeezing her brain. Exhausted and frustrated, Ginny slid down against the opposite wall, cradling her head in her hands. This one was fast becoming a migraine, and Ginny didn't have any more pain-relief potion left…

She tried to mentally escape, tried to erase the shadowy, stubborn wall from her mind's eye… Instead, she called up an image of her room at the Burrow, cozy and warm. Her tiny bed, which was so soft, but short—she had to curl up her legs so that they wouldn't hang off the edge. And the snow falling gently against her windowpanes, nothing more than a pretty picture of Christmas break.

Her head was so heavy, and the knots in the back of her neck slowly began to unravel. For a stone floor, it suddenly felt nice and cool…

"Ginny…." A warm, male voice echoed. "Ginny…" it said again, wanting something.

"MmHmm?" she mumbled, suddenly comforted. It was Harry's voice, deep and sure. And like always, tinged with worry. _Although, it was usually worry for her_, she thought, and her lips twitched into a smile.

"Weasley." Ginny frowned. Harry didn't call her that.

"Weasley!" She was wrong. The voice wasn't Harry's at all; it was deep and cold, like the lake in January.

Suddenly, she was struck by the image of Harry, falling into the frozen lake. She reached out to grab him, but he was too far, too unbalanced. His eyes were wide with panic and fear, and he hit the icy water, plummeting down…and from the grey depths of the lake, a great tentacle reached up, wrapped around his midsection, and jerked him down, down to depths where Ginny couldn't see him at all.

"Harry!" she shouted, suddenly gasping for air as if she was the one being dragged down into the lake.

"No, not Harry," a deep voice mocked her.

Draco Malfoy was standing above her, his lip curled. "Stop following me, Weaselette," he drawled, glaring down at her. "It's getting annoying."

She scrambled to her feet, backing against the wall. "What were you doing in there?" she demanded, trying to back away, for he was so close it made her nervous.

"That's not any of _your_ business, Weaselette" he spat, stepping forward. "And you should probably remember that next time you… fall asleep on the job," he smirked, and Ginny felt her face flame.

She took a step forward, squaring her shoulders. "Actually, I think it's everybody's business that you're not bringing the likes of Fenir Greyback into Hogwarts!"

His eyes darkened, the smirk slipping from his face, and he drew himself up to full height, towering over her. Ginny stood her ground. "Don't talk about things you know nothing about," he hissed, and immediately, her vision went a hazy red.

"Nothing!" she shrieked, her voice piercing. "Thanks to you, my brother was _mauled!_ Thanks to _you_, Dumbledore is dead!"

The gravity of her words sucked the world in. There was nothing there but him and her and she'd be damned if she didn't vent some of this boiling anger on the arrogant bastard.

Malfoy's eyes were cold, and suddenly distant. For a fleeting moment, Ginny felt a flash of triumph. But then he shook his head, and snarled, "Better him than me!"

The pure arrogance left Ginny speechless, and seeing that she had nothing, no cutting retort, he spun on his heel, strode purposefully down the corridor, and disappeared behind a brightly-colored, medieval tapestry.

Ginny realized that her mouth hung open, and she closed it with a snap, grinding her teeth together. Infuriated, she stomped off in the opposite direction, her headache returning with a vengeance.

She sighed, tired from today's turn of events, and changed course, heading for the hospital wing. Maybe if she was lucky, she could skip most of Carrow's muggle studies class… the thought brightened her up a bit, and she ran off, hopeful again.

* * *

Thanks so much to everybody that reviewed!! I hope everybody has a fantastic Christmas break, because I know I will! I can't wait to read Beetle and the Bard all Christmas afternoon…

Much love,

luckyluckylucky


	5. Chapter 4: Power Struggle

A/N: Thanks for sticking with your lying author who meant to update before this but didn't… I love every one of you.

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Chapter 4: Power Struggle

Ginny sulked down the hallway, grim. Unfortunately, Pomfrey already had a potion ready to take for headaches, and she saw to it that Ginny drank every last drop. Her excuse gone, she was forced to return to Muggle Studies, and the prospect of facing that awful pig of a woman sucked the optimism right out of her day.

The class had already started, and Ginny hesitated at the door. She could hear Alecto Carrow's shrill voice, her words scrambled through the medium of the door. Gathering her wit and courage, Ginny opened the heavy door and strode into the classroom, interrupting Carrow mid-sentence.

"Looky here, look who decided to come to class!" she exclaimed, the sick glee spreading across her pudgy face. "Weasley, such insubordination deserves a detention with me, to be sure—"

"I have a note."

Carrow's face fell. "A legit note? Bring it here," she demanded, her ugly face shrewd.

Ginny dropped the note into her reaching palm, careful not to touch her skin. Carrow scrutinized it for a full minute, and failing to see any flaw, she crumpled it and tossed it aside.

"Well, sit down, Weasley—are you as brainless as the rest of your family? Wait, right here—"she pointed to an empty chair directly in front of her. Ginny ground her teeth together; there was nobody else in the entire row, the students all choosing to sit as far away as possible. She spotted Neville, slouching in the back next to an empty seat, and he gave her a sympathetic look.

Ginny flung herself into the chair, slamming her books into a haphazard stack on her desk.

"Now, where were we before Weasley interrupted?" Carrow shot her a glare. "Ah— muggles," she spat, folding her hands complacently on the scuffed, oak podium. "The non-magical community," she mocked primly. "Some of you have been lead to believe by… Charity Burbage… that these _muggles_ are just like us. But that's not right!" Her face assumed an outraged sneer. "We are so superior to them, it's an insult to the entire pureblood race to compare us. They are no more than animals, with their complete and utter lack of the ability to understand what we _are_."

Carrow snatched up a heavy tome, flipping through the pages. "Ah—here it is. _From around 1480 through the 1700s, muggles have persecuted tens of thousands of magical brethren._ _Mass hysteria, mob lynching, and burning at the stake was utterly common in this time period. Of course, many of these wizards and witches merely overpowered the foolish muggles, escaping easily. Amazingly, many of the murders committed in the name of "maleficium' were actually muggles pretending to have the powers of wizardkind. But in some tragic cases, the wizards were stripped of their wands and were executed in a grisly manner to the cheers of a muggle mob._"

Disgusted, Carrow snapped the book closed, shaking her head. "The stupidity and brutish nature of muggles is something to be expected. It is our duty to protect our kind from these animals, by using our powers to control and rule over them. The Statute of Secrecy is an outdated, weak law. You may find, my students, that in your lifetime, this foolish code will be thrown out and replaced with a new law. A law that protects your families, your friends. A law that brings wizard-kind to its rightful place! In power."

"In power—"Ginny scoffed. "You're nothing but a power-hungry old hag."

A deathly silent hush fell over the room. Carrow narrowed her eyes, and Ginny stared back, determined.

Suddenly, Carrow tilted back her head and laughed, the sound tinny and fake. "Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes watering with mirth. "The muggle-lover is defending her true kind. How amusing…" Carrow took a few steps towards Ginny, her gestures covertly threatening.

"How amusing, that you would choose a muggle over your classmates, the people that you sit amongst." Carrow gestured wildly, pointing out random people. "You, and you! Miss Weasley would have you burned at the stake if it was the 17th century. Your whole rotting family…"

"Let me tell you something. When a tree is rotting, its branches infected and destroying the entire tree, what do you do? Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville squared his shoulders and called out, "You would treat it with an anti-rot solution," and in afterthought, "_Professor_."

A couple of rows away, Lavender and Parvati shook with giggles, shooting Neville admiring glances.

"Wrong!" Carrow shouted, slamming her book down on her desk. "You cut away the diseased branches, saving the tree! That is what some should do for their family trees," she intoned, giving Ginny a hard look. "Cut away the muggle influence, to save the entire family. Otherwise, _terrible_ things could happen."

"Is that a threat?" Ginny exclaimed, rising from her chair. But before she could draw her wand, Carrow tsked and raised her stubby wand. Involuntarily, Ginny's knees were drawn to a bend, and she was forced into a sit, like a stubborn dog.

"Stay in your seat, Miss Weasley," Carrow crooned silkily. "And why, of course not!" she objected in a saccharine manner that oozed sarcasm. "I wish nothing more than your family tree to be saved from muggle infection."

She turned away abruptly, fixing the class with a beady stare. "As for the rest of you, I want four feet on how Wizardkind is superior to muggle-kind. This shouldn't be difficult." She chuckled softly, oblivious to the entire class groaning in misery. "Class, you are dismissed."

There was a mad rush for the exit.

"Weasley," Carrow called in a sing-song voice.

Ginny turned, grating her teeth together. She didn't respond, but just stared expectantly. What more could Carrow do, anyways?

Carrow began carefully, "Weasley. If you suddenly feel the urge to interrupt my lecture again, you might want to reconsider. Because I am not above performing the Cruciatus Curse on insubordinate students, for the sake of example. Good day."

Shocked, she watched Carrow sweep away into her office. Carrow couldn't do that to students, it was so illegal! Ginny grabbed her belongings and rushed from the empty room, throwing herself into the tide of students that filled the corridors.

Suddenly, a sharp blow to her elbow knocked all her books askance, scrolls of parchment littering the floor. Gasping, Ginny dropped and tried to grab her things from the trampling feet. Her brand new inkpot rolled away, out of her reach. Ginny expected a foot to crush it, splattering the pretty navy ink all over the stone floor, but a pale, white hand flashed down and plucked it up. Ginny rose from the floor, ready to thank them for their help, but froze. Staring intently at her, Draco Malfoy stood a few feet away, his outstretched hand offering the inkpot to her. Her words of thanks died on her lips.

For a moment that seemed like an eon, Ginny stared blankly at him, her shoes glued to the floor.

Shrugging, Malfoy tossed the ink at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. Her hand shot up, the Quidditch reflexes allowing her to close her tiny hand around the container.

He turned on his heel, vanishing into the crowd. For some reason unbeknownst to Ginny, she impulsively called out, "Hey, thanks!"

But she didn't think he heard her among the sea of chattering students.

* * *

Not to guilt trip or anything, but if you don't review, I might think that nobody likes the update. So let me know what you think! (Even if you hate it.)


	6. Chapter 6: Competitive Edge

Disclaimer: I am actually only a J.K. Rowling impersonator, minus the blonde wig and british accent.

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Chapter 6: Competitive Edge

Nearly everything Ginny had once loved at Hogwarts had vanished along with Harry Potter. It was as if a dark cloud had descended upon the castle, and remained unaffected by wind, magic, or time. Once challenging and stimulating, classes had become a place of fear. The students dared not speak up in class, lest they upset the capricious tempers of the Carrows. Detention no longer meant scraping up something nasty in the Potions dungeons; it was quite literally, torture. The teachers who had remained-- McGonagal, Slughorn, Flitwick, Sprout, and Trelawney-- were utterly unable to do anything about the Carrow's flagrant use of the Cruciatus curse on students. _It's not as if Snape was about to intervene… _Ginny thought sourly. She had never lived a day at Hogwarts where Harry wasn't there, and she was finding she didn't like it at all.

Lately, there was only one thing keeping her from packing up her things and going off into the forest to live with the unicorns. Despite all of the difficulties going on in the castle, Gryffindor had managed to pull together a fairly decent Quidditch team. Demelza Robins was made Captain due to a fortunate familial connection to the Carrows. _Or unfortunate, really… _but was doing an excellent job so far, in Ginny's opinion.

For the last week, practices had been brutal. Every single day, the team trudged through the mud, rain, and sleet to practice. But despite the poor conditions, the energy of the team crackled in their fingertips, their hearts pounding with anticipation, as the first match of the season approached. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, the very next afternoon. Ginny felt positively gleeful at all the revenge she could get away with, disguised as sportsmanship.

"Okay team! Gather 'round!" Demelza clapped her hands together excitedly. "This is it. Today's the big day. Here's your chance to pound those bastards into a pulp! Normally I'd say, keep it clean. But today, you go ahead and play dirty, Weasley, I know that's your specialty."

Ginny grinned and flipped her the bird. "Malfoy's going to be the one eating dirt," she promised.

"Peakes, Coote, you've got those bats, so use them! Every single one of those Slytherins deserves a bludger to the head, and I'm counting on you both to deliver."

"Yes ma'am," Peakes drawled.

"Thomas, Creevey, we're keeping our lines tight tomorrow. Make sure you're checking above you, Colin. I don't want you getting dive-bombed. And Dean, make sure you trim your broom's tail tonight so it doesn't drag." They both nodded.

Demelza's intense dark eyes swept the locker room, and centered on Adam Rhodes, the new Keeper and Ron's replacement. He was dependable, had a sturdy build, and as much as Ginny hated to admit it, a much better Keeper. "Rhodes, all you need to remember is to stay centered. And if Sean Yeserby looks like he's aiming for the right, he's always going to go for the left."

He smirked and said, "I know, I know. Don't even worry about it, love."

Demelza bloomed a bright pink blush, causing Ginny to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, shut up Gin." She scolded, suddenly interested in re-tying her shoelaces.

Ginny laughed. "Didn't say a thing, Dem."

"And didn't have to…" someone muttered under their breath.

"Okay, I think that's enough!" Demelza straightened and clapped her hands together energetically. "Let's go kick some ass!"

* * *

Half an hour later, Ginny couldn't remember ever being dry and warm. A storm rivaling the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match her second year had blown in with astounding speed, drenching the frenzied crowd and the players. Madam Hooch had a fit when both teams absolutely refused to call off the match; nobody was forfeiting today.

Gryffindor was pulling about twenty points ahead, but the mere idea of Malfoy capturing the snitch before her needled her fingertips and made her chest burn. He obviously had a better broom-- there was no denying that Ron's handed-down but well-cared for Cleansweep couldn't compare to whatever top-of-the-line twig Malfoy was toting around, flaunting his ability to buy speed and purchase envy. But Ginny was lighter. He had at least a foot and over thirty pounds on her, weighing him down in the rain, while she flitted around him in circles like a persistent little bird.

Ginny kept so close to his tail that the only thing Malfoy could do was brake suddenly, hoping to catch her off-guard and either send her flying past him or colliding into him. She was so close, she could hear his low, frustrated growl.

Grinning and flipping her sopping braid over her shoulder, Ginny called softly, "Need a hint, Malfoy? It's small, golden, and has cute little wings."

"Fuck you, Weasley," he grunted, and sped away.

"I'll even show it to you after I catch it!" Ginny yelled, and then took off after him.

Ginny could barely see the rest of the team through the stinging sheets of rain, but what she did see wasn't pretty. On a quick lap around the bottom of the stadium, Ginny spotted what looked like a tangle of flailing arms and legs, with Demelza drifting above the fray, screaming her head off. Ginny pulled up close and shouted over the thunder, "Dem! DEMELZA! WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Upon closer inspection, Ginny could see that Demelza was close to tears, her delicate hands squeezed into fists. "GUYS, BREAK IT UP!" she screeched, and pulled out her wand. "Ginny, just go!"

"But I can--"

"FIND THE SNITCH!"

Ginny shook the hair out of her eyes and sped off, looking for glints of gold and he-who-she-wished-would-not-be-named… damn Malfoy…

She didn't want to fly too high, lest she be struck by the violent flashes of lightening… in fact, most of the game was taking place at a rather lower level than usual. And then, in the very center of the field… she could barely make out the flash of white-blond, illuminated by the brilliant electricity, ripping through the sky… and her blood went cold.

He ducked into a sharp dive, speeding towards the ground, his hand outstretched… Ginny shot off like an arrow, her heart squeezed up into her throat. _I'm not going to make it…_

Her broom moved beneath her faster than it had ever gone. It was a sheer moment of agony, this union of mind and wild desperation that urged her broomstick faster than it had ever gone. She was so close! She followed his dive, both spiraling towards the sodden earth, racing the raindrops to the ground…

And it all happened in less than a second. She was so close to his tail, pale outstretched hands nearly brushing the stiff, waxed straw, she didn't realize that it was all a feint until it was moments too late to pull out of the dive. Malfoy tried to yank his broom horizontal with the ground at the last second, but Ginny slammed into him, and they both were falling…

A sharp flash, a blinding pain… and it all went black.

* * *

It was suddenly so quiet, not even her body was speaking how it should. She couldn't feel her toes. It was like being submerged underwater. And it was all so heavy… something was pinning her down, rendering her arms and legs useless… what was going on?

And suddenly, it felt like she was being dragged up to the surface, the blood rushing back into her ears, and as her face broke the surface, she gasped in the icy air. She could breathe, her ears were working again, and somehow she knew her eyes would work too, if she only opened her eyes. _But why can't I move?_

Ginny felt the sharp, stabbing pain in her wrist, and a small moan escaped her lips. "Oh my god…"

With a grimace, she opened her eyes, and suddenly realized that she wouldn't move a muscle if she could. Malfoy was completely pinning her down, every line of their drenched bodies pressed flush. Immediately, her face turned a shade of Weasley red, and she tried to wedge herself free by shoving against his shoulder. But when she tried to move her wrist, lightening-hot pain shot up her arm. She cried out in shock and pain and frustration, a few tears escaping.

"Malfoy, wake up!"

Ginny groaned and tried to wiggle out from beneath him, but dear merlin-- he was heavier than she thought!

"Malfoy, so help me…." Ginny hissed mingled threats and swear-words through her gritted teeth, trying to ignore the complaints of her battered body to get out from under him.

Suddenly Malfoy stirred feebly, a low groan emitting from his throat. "Uhgn… my head…"

"Yeah, just wait until I get out of here, you bloody bastard, you're head will really hurt…" Ginny growled, too exhausted to struggle. "Get off of me!"

Malfoy groaned and mumbled to himself, as if he was sleep-talking.

"Get up, you bloody lump!"

"I caught it…" Malfoy mumbled.

"What? Ugh, get up!" Ginny snapped.

Slowly, Malfoy braced himself up with one hand and gently lifted his torso. Ginny immediately raised her good arm and used her last ounce of energy to shove Malfoy violently, which sent him toppling into the mud.

She expected him to moan and bitch some more about how he chipped a nail, or his head hurt, but she certainly didn't expect such a bizarre reaction, in such a bizarre situation.

He laughed, a deep amused chuckle, and a wide smirk graced his arrogant, aristocratic features.

"How hard did you hit your head?" Ginny snapped, furiously gripping her wrist, which felt like it was broken. "Shut up!"

"Hahahah, oh… this is great

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"See, I…" the spontaneous laughter slowed, and he said lightly, "I beat you."

And with a smug expression on his face, he lifted the delicate, golden snitch that he had cupped in his hand, and shot her a wink.

"Isn't it cute?

* * *

"I'm not staying here!" Ginny insisted, trying to push herself up once again.

"You ARE." Madam Pomfrey pressed her back into the pillows, grabbing a flask full of emerald-green potion and clicking her tongue. "You broke your wrist and three ribs, and you must stay overnight."

"I'm not staying within fifty feet of that cheating scum-- he's the one that knocked me off my broom!" Ginny snarled in his direction, where she knew Malfoy was hidden behind the hospital curtains

He started whistling innocently, still hiding.

She opened her mouth to protest, or perhaps fling another insult in Malfoy's direction, but Pomfrey used the opportunity to pour the potion down her throat. She coughed and spluttered furiously, glaring at the nurse.

"I don't want to here another word out of you, Weasley," she snapped severely, casting a warning glance over both occupants of the hospital wing. "Either of you. Weasley, change into your pajamas.

"With a broken wrist..?" Ginny grumbled, but grabbed the thin gown that she provided.

Startling her, a quiet, dreamy voice said, "Need a bit of help with that?"

Ginny jumped, jostling her damaged wrist painfully, and spun to see Luna drifting in silently through the door. She smiled, putting one finger to her mouth, and gave her an awkward, one-sided hug, trying not to press her bruises.

"The team is a bit glum," She whispered, drawing the curtains around Ginny's bed. "Demelza's bringing up more casualties as we speak."

"Damn… who else was hurt?" Ginny shed her wet things and slipped on the nightgown.

"Peakes, Colin, and a few Slytherins. You should have seen Rhodes… that big, ugly Slytherin chaser, Yeserby, tried to knock Demelza off her broom, and he completely kicked the guy's ass."

Ginny laughed delightedly. "Good for him!"

Luna smiled widely and commented wryly, "Quite."

And just as Ginny laid down gently onto the bed, wincing at the bruises blooming on her ribcage, a bunch of people entered the hospital wing, arguing furiously.

Ginny sighed, completely exhausted. "It's going to be a long night…"

* * *

Madam Pompfrey was a miracle worker… She bandaged, mended, and scolded all at once-- the ultimate, expert multi-tasker. She managed to throw out the mutinous team-members, calm the furious staff, and heal pretty much all of the damage done by a match that she had been expecting chaos from. The only people left overnight in the ward were Ginny and Malfoy, and one second-year who had been fast asleep from the moment his head hit the pillow.

All was dark, and quiet, and the only light emitted from the rows of shimmering potions lined neatly along the shelves along the walls. Ginny tried to shift her position, and then moaned softly at the sharp stab of pain. Dressed in a long sleeping robe and slippers, Madam Pomfrey swept out of her office, quietly mixing together liquids and crushing up tablets, murmuring instructions to herself.

"Here, you both should drink this." She poured a small dollop of the viscous potion into a vial, and handed it to Ginny, who swallowed the surprisingly sweet potion without complaint. "It's a painkiller, so you should be able to sleep."

She did the same for Malfoy, and then with one last cursory glance, she disappeared into her office and extinguished the last candle.

For a moment, Ginny felt absolutely no effect of the potion. Her wrist ached, and she could almost feel the bones knitting together, melding and ossifying, the natural progression speeding to wholeness. But her side, it ached furiously, the bleeding beneath the skin swelling and purpling, so tender she couldn't even draw in a deep breath. _Damn Irish genes,_ she thought, wishing she didn't bruise so easily.

The night seemed to hold its breath, not wanting to exhale. Ginny could sense that Malfoy was wide awake, only a few feet away from her, wishing he was somewhere else. She was sure the Slytherins were celebrating in their dungeon of a common room, thrilled with their last victory over their rivals, the triumph of cunning over bravery. Didn't that just explain everything about the match, the whole reason Ginny was lying here, in pain? Wasn't that just the story of her life? Riddle, Snape, Malfoy… tricking her into running headlong into misery.

_What a bitter bitch…_ the voice snarked. _No wonder you never win._

She was spiraling, falling into darkness, like sliding down the damp, inky tunnel into the Chamber… a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, running into her thick hair.

Through the darkness, she could hear Malfoy's sharp intake of breath. He murmered, "Do you feel that, Weasley?"

She felt the sinking sensation, her head was spinning, and all her bones ached. She swallowed, and asked, "Feel what?" hating the way her voice wavered in the darkness.

It was a few moments before he answered, "The warmth?"

Ginny was taken aback, and re-evaluated what she felt. The icy rain was beating against the tall, arched windows, and the blankets were thin. But the ice she had felt deep in her chest, it wasn't quite cold anymore. It was like a little spring of fire had bubbled up through the center, and was slowly spreading throughout her body.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I feel it."

"The painkillers…" he murmered.

"It must be…" she responded, wishing she could see his face. His voice was so strange in the dark, somehow transformed by the darkness, the secrecy of it all. Somehow, he sounded afraid.

Through the haze of medication, they both were spinning.

* * *

Nothing motivates me to update like a constructive REVIEW! I would love to hear your feedback… even if you hated it. Everything helps.


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